Cool Hands

Sometimes I miss cool hands. 

Cool hands warming themselves in the small of my naked back during the deep hours of the night. 

I miss the sleepy cooing declaring that I’m so warm and the snuggling in that inevitably follows. 

I miss arms draped protectively, proprietarily over me. 

I miss pliant nipples pressed against my back…soft slumbering sighs warming my neck…legs insistently entwined with mine. 

Sometimes…just sometimes…I miss cool hands.